


Mulled Thoughts

by Myx



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Episode: Zurich, Pre-Slash, Skipthur, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 15:05:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11488908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myx/pseuds/Myx
Summary: Martin goes for a walk and has a think.





	Mulled Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything.
> 
> Please heed the tags on this post: there are suicidal thoughts in this fic. I promise you that the fic ends VERY happily, though. 
> 
> Written for the 2017 Fandot Summer Christmas prompt series. The following fic was in response to prompt 7, which featured the words "Mulled Wine" on a window.

Martin shivered as a cold wind bit at his skin as he walked, without any real plan, down a bustling sidewalk. He turned up his collar on his wool jacket, and pulled the jacket towards him more. By all accounts, he  _should_  be out enjoying himself with the rest of his Swiss Airways flight crew, but he made up an excuse as to why he didn’t want to eat, drink, and be merry with his crew on Christmas Eve, in Tokyo. He was so sick of making excuses as to why he didn’t want to go out and do things with them. He was  _fine_  being with them on a plane for upwards of 12 hours, but heaven forbid they ask him to go on a hike in the Diablo Mountains with them when they were in the San Francisco Bay area for a week, or to see the Northern Lights when they were in Norway for a few days. It wasn’t that he hated them or anything, but he just couldn’t stand being around people if he didn’t need to be around people. He knew his coworkers talked about him, saying how he was aloof and not friendly with how often he would make an excuse, but he didn’t care; it took too much energy putting on a happy face throughout the duration of the flight for him to continue that for a few more hours. He was exhausted enough as it was, to be honest. He knew it wasn’t that long of a walk back to the hotel (he preferred, if anything, to go on long walks by himself, listening to music or to the news on his mobile, over being around people), but the sooner he got back into his hotel room and ordered room service, the better he would feel. 

A few blocks later, he came across a cheery sign in the window of what looked to be a pub. The sign was advertising mulled wine and had festive stars and snowflakes surrounding the words. Curiosity got the best of him and he chanced a glance at the name of pub-like place, and immediately wish he hadn’t. The door to this pub-like place looked like the front of one of those red telephone booths in London and in black block lettering read the words “The Auspicious Pig and Whistle Old England-Style Happy Pub.” It dawned on him that  _this_  was the place that he could’ve went to in Tokyo with Carolyn and Arth-. 

 _No._  Martin thought bitterly as he pried himself away from the pub, continuing his journey.  _Don’t think about them. Not now. Not on Christmas Eve._ He ran away from thoughts about his first Christmas with MJN Air and the mulled wine that Arthur had made, pushing them frantically into boxes, and shoving them away so he wouldn’t think about how the wine smelt, how lovely it was to have seen Douglas finally not have everything handed to him on a silver platter, and how happy he was. Prior to that night, he hadn’t been that happy since he found out that he had passed his CPL, finally. 

He had kept in touch with his MJN Air family since he had taken the job in Zurich, but it had been almost a year since he had seen them. He had tried to make a stop in Fitton when he visited his mum in Wokingham, but it had only worked a few times. He had also been a pen pal to Arthur after his move, but Martin hadn’t sent Arthur anything for a while. Every time Martin was back in his lonely, but nice, flat, he walked past Arthur’s most recent letter, but Martin couldn’t bring himself to read it. It wasn’t that he was turned off by what Arthur had likely written about, as Arthur typically just wrote about adventures that he had been on, different games that Douglas and Herc play, and his new creations in the kitchen, but it just made Martin’s chest ache with guilt and shame. 

He knew he had hit the jackpot taking the position at SA, but something about his life just felt so,  _empty._ He spent most of his life just being on autopilot, almost numbed to everything surrounding him, and trying so incredibly hard to fight away the demons, his mental demons, which had plagued him nearly his entire adult life. He knew he would never give into the demons, mostly because he was too much of a coward to do anything about it, but he  _knew_  life had to get better, at least that’s what every therapist had ever told him. He hated that he knew something in his life was missing, but he had no idea what it was and shaking that thought was damned near impossible.

“Marrrr-” 

Martin stopped walking and spun around, puzzled, because he  _swore_  someone had said his name just now, but maybe it had just been-

“Martin?!”

Grabbing his mobile out of his pocket, he paused his music and took his earbuds out of his ears, waiting patiently for the voice, which he was now very certain wasn’t an a hallucination. After putting his mobile back in this pocket, he tried his best to look to see where the voice was coming from, without drawing too much attention to himself. 

“IT IS YOU!”

Martin felt strong arms around his chest, nearly knocking the wind out of him. Martin shrieked, and just quickly as it had came on, the arms were gone, and he felt himself being spun around. Blearily, he blinked and found himself face-to-face with Arthur, who was wearing a Santa hat, a  _very_  ugly, but quite Arthurian ugly Christmas sweater, and a huge, excited smile. 

“Oh, sorry about that, Skip! I just got really excited to see you; I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Arthur said, pulling Martin off to the side so they wouldn’t be in the flow of foot traffic.

“No, don’t worry about me, Arthur,” Martin began in a wheezy voice, “though, I would prefer you to not almost knock me over next time. What are you doing here anyways?”

“Oh. Did you not read my letter, Skip?” Arthur’s face fell.

“I’m afraid not, Arthur. Life,” he began, pushing a stray curl behind his ear, “really hasn’t been too good for me as of late. Every time I would attempt to read your letter, I had to stop.”

“Oh, Skip; I’m sorry. I should’ve known it probably wouldn’t  be a good idea to tell you about everything you’re missing now that you’re no longer in Fitton. But, in the letter, I had told you that Mum, Douglas, Herc, and I were going to be in Tokyo for Christmas this year. I had remembered you saying something a few letters ago about the chance that you might have the Zurich to Tokyo flight for the entire month of December, so, I thought it might be nice to meet up and say hi.”

“Oh.”

“But, you don’t look like you want to be bothered right now, Skip, so I’ll just leave you to it.” Arthur in a crushed tone and began walking away from Martin. 

“Arthur! Wait!.” Martin shouted, running after Arthur, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

Arthur stopped and turned around. He had just turned around when Martin grabbed Arthur’s waist and buried himself in Arthur’s chest. Martin’s chest heaved up and down as Martin began sobbing.

“Oh, Skip. Just let it all out; you’ll feel so much better after a good cry. Its what mum always says, at least.”

Martin looked up at Arthur with tears streaming down his face and a look that Arthur couldn’t quite tell what it meant. 

“Do you need a tissue? I think I have some in my pants pocket.”

Martin smiled, cradled Arthur’s head in his hands, and gave him a peck on the lips. After they broke away, Arthur beamed and pulled in Martin for a slow, passionate, and very tender kiss. 

After making himself look at bit more presentable, Arthur offered him his hand, and together, they walked, hand-in-hand, back to the pub. It was a new start; Martin knew it wasn't going to be easy, but with a force so bright, the darkness in his life would most certainly end and he could finally, feel more like Martin, and not like autopilot and numbed Martin. 


End file.
